A Pale Gentle Blur
by crimson nightmare
Summary: Ch 4! Fate can be harsh, cold, even malicious. When four paths are weaved together, fate plays her game to its very best. Ralph/Simon, Jack/Roger SLASH!!
1. Chapter: Trance

A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare  
  
  
  
Summary:  
  
Time passes by with a pale, gentle blur.  
  
People change again as things now occur.  
  
Fate doesn't control destruction, people do.  
  
Miracle doesn't exist, only grief and pains do.  
  
This is a story of four paths weaved as one.  
  
Where a miracle comes and puts the past behind.  
  
A gentle blur would pale their hearts;  
  
And fades away the malicious blot. [Crimson Nightmare]  
  
Declaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to W. Golding. Also, the lyrics at the end are Brian Adam's "On a Day Like Today", not mine either. No money is made from this, so no suing please.  
  
MUST-READS:  
  
I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes. Some changes will be made to the plot of the original book. Quotes are taken from the original book; I will not list them in declaimer because there are quite a few of them. New setting: After the boys came back into civilization, four or so years after that. I am not associating the new setting with the actual history of Britain at the time. I'm simply using today's society as the new setting. (It's too much work to do the actual time - for those who know me; you know how lazy I can be.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
  
  
A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare  
  
  
  
Chapter One: Trance  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
"Hey buddy." The clerk at the front desk greeted him cheerfully. He had always come to this place for the same priced cup of coffee and same type of fresh baked donuts.  
  
"The usual, please." He said pleasantly, hiding behind the bright smile he carried around these days. He had learned how to do this in a slightly different way from a boy, from a boy who had a philosophy of both authority and forgotten pride. He took the donuts given to him and the cup of coffee and found a nice little corner where he could do what he had come here to do.  
  
  
  
He was here to think - to think about a certain someone else.  
  
  
  
He watched silently as streetcars outside the glass window passed by, buzzing and crowding the city like blobs of painted flies. He took out his little bottle of brandy and made a nice shake out of his coffee and brandy. He took a sip of the hot stuff and sat back, admiring the burning feeling of the liquid going down his throat. Now that he was relaxed and settled.  
  
He began to drown, drowning himself in the terrifying and sweet memories.  
  
A dim, sad light shun about him, as he lowered his gaze to the hypnotism of the swirling blend of the warm brown of coffee and the sharp hotness of brandy; the two people he used to know, long, long time ago.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
He remembered. That boy with red hair under his black cap and black cloak flying behind, giving off radiation of both authority and pride. Jack. They had first smiled at each other with shy liking. How long ago was that? He did not remember.  
  
Then he remembered. That shy, skinny little boy that gave him light. The warm smile and weak body that held incredible will power. Simon. He remembered his first impression on the boy -- weakness, how the boy had fainted right in front of him, and how the boy with red hair and authority arranged a stop just for the skinny little boy. He remembered he felt a bit envious at the boy with red hair, envious at the authority he had over that smaller boy.  
  
He was later proved wrong - the little boy with coarse black hair had an authority that was even greater than anybody else's, he was never owned by anybody. Simon really was the strongest soul amongst them all, now that he thought about it. It was a kind of white purity that was not found in anywhere else, not even in the civilized life he regained here in Britain.  
  
  
  
He remembered their first contact, as that little boy had stroked his arm shyly, and they were laughing. Ah. Laughing. Really laughing. Something he hasn't done ever since he had been through what he been through, even after he came back into that ungraspable thing they called civilization.  
  
  
  
  
  
He was so stupid, so immature, and so very much in love.  
  
They were so stupid that they followed their desires, and believed in love at the first sight. They were so immature that the three of them had made love right away in that blue field of flowers on the bright side of the mountain. He had knocked that little tanned figure down first, expressing the intensity of his emotion; and soon they were a happy, heaving pile in the under-dusk. At the time it was their paradise, where the three of them had it all. Until a blackness suddenly infected the island - no. It was there all along, he guessed, and it kills him to remember that horrifying time, when lovers turn against each other for power, when they had nearly killed their loved one without even knowing it.  
  
  
  
Love disappeared in one of them. He never noticed when. Or why.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
//flashback//  
  
  
  
"Ralph --?" A small voice called him.  
  
He rolled over and pressed down the little head that shared his stash of leaf-made pillow. "Go to sleep." He mumbled sleepily. Ralph slid his hand down the skinny arm that was underneath him and found the boy's hand; he grabbed it with authority and felt the ends of the skinny boy's fingertips. "Go back to sleep."  
  
"Ralph --?" The little voice called him again, this time with more urgency.  
  
He blinked open one eye. "What is it, Simon? Nightmare?"  
  
  
  
The thin, tanned boy shook his head hard until his black hair flopped left and right with his head's movement and he finally spoke with a small voice, "You're suffocating me." The thin, little fingers pointed at Ralph, who was sleeping on top of Simon and was crushing him with heavy weight.  
  
Ralph opened both of his eyes this time and smiled slyly at the innocent statement. "Well, I thought that's kind of obvious, isn't it? You are, for a fact, always at the bottom when we did it."  
  
The little boy underneath him wiggled uncomfortably. "That is very mean. And, by the way, I'm lacking oxygen seriously. Please get off of me."  
  
"Oh come on." The boy on top said with mischievous glitters in his eyes. "Nobody'll hear us."  
  
"Ralph --" Simon went red in embarrassment and begun to protest but was cut off by a hot, wet kiss from the other boy.  
  
Ralph sat up on top of the smaller boy and looked down with authority, protection, and admiration. He bent down again and kissed the babbling lips, cutting off the small, weak protests that slipped from time to time as their kisses broke off in repeated rhythm. His hands swam downward, feeling the healthy, tanned skin of that small body underneath him and sent wet kisses down following his hands.  
  
He closed his eyes as he sank his face into Simon's shoulder.  
  
  
  
"Darn. You started without me?" A mocking voice came down on them with passionate lips following along. "Ralph you sly old dog."  
  
"Hey, how was I supposed to know you weren't sleeping?" Ralph protested as Jack squatted down beside him and began to finger his neck with lust.  
  
"You guys --" A small voice floated between them again.  
  
They looked over, and both laughed as they saw the You've-All-Forgotten-Me look was presented in Simon's large, adorable eyes. They made up to Simon by both lying down on the either side of the smaller boy and pressed themselves tightly against the small, tanned body that was waiting to be loved and caressed.  
  
  
  
Jack was always the aggressive one, and Ralph knew it and did not mind. He let Jack have him, while he himself tasted the sweet tenderness of Simon beneath him. He felt Jack's possessive hands gripping his shoulders and caressing his back as he circled his arms around Simon, who was in front of him, wiggling around on his lap. He slipped into Simon with a smooth movement and stayed there until he felt Jack entering him with a more rough and inexperienced motion.  
  
  
  
"Jack," He said calmly. "Start moving or I'll be pushing you off."  
  
"Yes, Chief." Jack's voice came dripping with sarcasm.  
  
  
  
The red-haired boy had his ration of sex as Ralph started setting to work on the smaller boy before him. "Simon --" He murmured with a teasing tone. He did not say anything further but started nibbling at the Simon's ear and neckline. He had a natural feeling in need of both protecting and petting the thin-framed boy, and he did not know why. He made love to the boy with gentleness, unlike the more aggressive boy behind him, and had the time of his life as he came into Simon, hearing the small teeth-clutched gasp coming out of the boy.  
  
Towards Jack he felt the need to connect -- the need to keep the boy in check, in case he does something stupid out of temporary passion. He liked the boy from the very beginning, but he couldn't help noticing his tight defense against any authority that attempts to try to over throw him - for example, Ralph himself. For this little knot between them, he felt the need to pay back, and somehow it ended up in a love-hate relationship like they had now.  
  
They panted as they all were satisfied and lied down in the half-done hut that stood shakily at night. From the gap between the palm leaves that formed the roof Ralph could see pale, glimmering stars hanging in the sky. It all seems so wonderful now.  
  
  
  
//flashback end//  
  
  
  
Free is all you've got to be  
  
dream dreams no one else can see  
  
sometimes you want to run away  
  
but you never know what might be coming round your way  
  
On a day like today  
  
the whole world could change  
  
the sun is going to shine  
  
shine thru the rain  
  
on a day like today  
  
you never wanna see the sun go down  
  
you never wanna see the sun go down  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
A/N: Hello, the very few of you who are fans of Lord of the Flies~ This is a fic for a friend, who, by the way, loves Simon very, very much! *coughthere'smoretoitcough* Anyways, I hope you liked the little fic. Please leave a review and tell me if you think it's good, bad, too little sex, sappy (?), suggestions, comments, blah, blah, and blah~ Love to here from you! *beams~* 


	2. Chapter 2: Murder

A Pale, Gentle Blur By C.N.  
  
  
  
Declaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to W. Golding. Also, the lyrics at the end are Sarah MacLachlan's "Angel". No money is made from this, so no suing please.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hey there, I see that there's still somebody out there that likes this novel! Oooo~ I'm both surprised and happy!! ^o^ By the way, please read the MUST READS before you start the fic if you haven't done so, because there would be annoying confusions if you don't do it and you care a lot about logic like I do. Well, that's about it for now.  
  
Enjoy!!  
  
  
  
MUST-READS:  
  
I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes.  
  
Some changes will be made to the plot of the original book.  
  
Quotes are taken from the original book; I will not list them in declaimer because there are quite a few of them.  
  
New setting: After the boys came back into civilization, four or so years after that.  
  
I am not associating the new setting with the actual history of Britain at the time. I'm simply using today's society as the new setting. (It's too much work to do the actual time - for those who know me; you know how lazy I can be.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
  
  
A Pale, Gentle Blur By C.N.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Murder  
  
  
  
Murder, with one word;  
  
Die, with one stare.  
  
Hands gripping tight,  
  
Tides hitting lives.  
  
Dark secrets revealed,  
  
Truth dares not know why.  
  
Fingering lust and pain,  
  
As a pale, gentle blur passed by.  
  
[crimson nightmare]  
  
  
  
There was no way he could have not fallen in love. But he was not aware of how serious the word 'Love' was until he thought he had lost the one he loved.  
  
He had said these words - words of insanity when he realized in horror what they had done.  
  
  
  
//flashback//  
  
  
  
  
  
"Simon."  
  
  
  
"Simon." He whispered hoarsely.  
  
  
  
He was laughing hysterically.  
  
  
  
"That was Simon." He said with a shakiness that made the others squirm under the sign of fatal rage and invisible tears.  
  
  
  
"That was murder." He sentenced his crime of his young life and jumped up.  
  
  
  
"You didn't see what we did --" He was back down again, rocking to and fro.  
  
  
  
"I'm frightened. Of us. I want to go home. Oh God I want to go home." He repeated to himself crazily.  
  
  
  
He shuddered at human contacts.  
  
  
  
He was lost for that moment, torn in the feeling to kill and to break down and simply cry.  
  
  
  
Then he sank himself in distracting talks with the others again, but he grasped onto the remaindering small amount of light shining from the soul that cradled his head gently, giving him comfort.  
  
"Ralph --" it said, sounding like how Simon had always called his name shyly. "Go on. I'll always be there with you."  
  
He grasped onto that light and went on with the hell descending onto the caging island.  
  
  
  
//flashback end//  
  
  
  
How could Simon have gone? How could they have committed this sin? He ended up like a crazed human being, with a scattered mind and distracted conversations. He laughed and snickered uncontrollably at matters at hand and he fought invaders with a kind of hatred that was not there before.  
  
He remembered how, later, he smelt blood. He did not say anything, but laughed with insanity. The little light that Simon had given to him was forgotten momentarily.  
  
  
  
"Sir --" There was a voice calling him from afar.  
  
"Sir --" There was a voice calling him from somewhere closer.  
  
"Sir -" There was a voice calling him, near.  
  
He finally snapped out of his little perplexity and looked up. A waiter was looking down at him with concern, saying, "Sir, are you going to drink that? I really didn't want to bother you but you've been sitting there staring at it for the past two hours so I thought --"  
  
"It's fine." He said quickly. "Thank you. I should be going anyways." He drained the cup of coffee in front of the waiter and grabbed his donuts and his bag and went out of the small coffee shop. Nine-thirty a.m. He was waiting for the hospital's visitor hours, which was now. He rushed into the hospital on the other side of the street and found the room he was looking for in a few quick turns at the white-painted halls.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
He peered into the simple room quietly and tiptoed to the window by the bed. He put down his bag and opened up the curtains. Tender light shone into the room, which was painted pale-green like all of the other hospital rooms. A white teddy bear with a baby blue ribbon was placed at the corner of the light brown shelf that was on the left side of the bed. The bed had soft white sheets on. And in the bed was a young man, in a comma.  
  
  
  
He was pale, the young man. He had paled considerably, in contrast to his child-time brown skin, since they were miraculously rescued from that cage of hell. It was appropriate since he had been lying in the hospital for four years now, continuously in comma. His black hair turned thinner and smoother since Ralph had been caring for it for him. Ralph gazed at the unmoving lips, weakly breathing chest and the rest of the young man's unmoving parts, and softly took hold of the limp hand on the bed and kissed it with great tenderness.  
  
  
  
He sat down silently beside the bed and begun to talk quietly to the unconscious young man. There was a breeze that blew in from the gap of the half opened window, bringing in a scent of flowers and green leaves. He shuddered at the smell that reminded him of the wilderness, but at the same time it brought him memories, pleasant memories back. Memories of a blue field of flowers.  
  
  
  
He looked down at Simon, and mouthed three words as he put his head down at the young man's limp shoulder. Now he understood what these words mean, and he was announcing it silently with the real will power to take responsibility for it.  
  
  
  
'I love you.'  
  
  
  
Spend all your time waiting  
  
for that second chance  
  
For the break that will make it OK  
  
There's always some reason  
  
to feel not good enough  
  
And it's hard at the end of the day  
  
I need some distraction  
  
or a beautiful release  
  
Memories seep from my veins  
  
Let me be empty  
  
and weightless and maybe  
  
I'll find some peace tonight  
  
In the arms of the Angel  
  
far away from here  
  
From this dark, cold hotel room,  
  
and the endlessness that you feel  
  
You are pulled from the wreckage  
  
of your silent reverie  
  
You're in the arms of the Angel;  
  
may you find some comfort here  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
  
  
It was a miracle that Simon had survived. He was so sure that the boy was dead. He shuddered every now and then, haunted by the possibilities. What if they had not found Simon trapped between those shore rocks? What if they left without Simon? What if.  
  
  
  
Something other than nature must have been at work that night when Simon was savagely stabbed by nine to ten spears at a time, because only three of the stabs went through - two through his right shoulder and one by his left thigh. The rest of the stabs were miraculously slipped off so that it did not go so deep, leaving no eternal bleeding and fatal injuries. He did not know to check the pulse at the time, and how lucky it was for Simon that the waves had washed him to a not often visited part of the beach so that later he, barely breathing, was found in a tangle of seaweed and sand by the rescuers.  
  
The adults thought he was just a mess of seaweed and corpse, but he was alive, just trapped by the rock that jammed and broke his leg. Even the doctor could not believe how strong of a will power to survive that the boy had. He was unconscious for days, possibly up to weeks, and then he was certainly blessed by heavens because he survived by waking up momentarily every now and then and had the advantage of raindrops and fallen fruits provided by nature. He fell in and out of unconsciousness and did not have the smallest strength to speak a word when the island was on fire, and not even when he saw the rescuers coming in his way, searching for lost kids amongst the woods.  
  
Later he was rushed into an emergency room, dealing with his seriously infected wounds, cleaning the rotten flesh out of his horrifying wounds, and dealing with his broken leg. He sighed, finally relieved that he was rescued, fell asleep and never woke up again. The doctors told Ralph later that Simon was in a comma.  
  
  
  
Ralph considered all this while he adjusted back into civilization. It was not a pleasant process, but he succeeded in the end and even got a part time job as a regular tutor to pay his university fees - he found out when he came back, that his family had all been killed in the war and half of their money was not officially documented to be left to him. And so he took what was left for him and bought a sustainable little flat and went on to finish university. He found it stunning - his ability to adjust back into the academic world, getting the scholarship, and he was very thankful for it.  
  
He made it a habit to visit Simon every Saturday morning. He would stay with the unconscious young man until the nurse comes in and shoos him out of the room. He formed a good, simple lifestyle that kept him from remembering the evil and savagery that devoured him on the island in his childhood. If only Simon could wake up and live with him.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Hi --" An awkward voice came in. Someone he did not expect had appeared in front of him in the middle of his little remembrance session. He looked up and saw the figure and was shocked. For a moment he was relieved that the man looked okay, but the next moment all the hatred and anger had come back to him, for the man standing nervously before him was Jack.  
  
  
  
He lowered his head and said, "What are you doing here, Merridew?" His voice sounded cold beyond words. It was hatred and rage, for the blood that was spilled, not only Simon, but also Piggy.  
  
"I, um, came here to see him." The red-haired man stuttered.  
  
"He's not for you to see." Ralph growled with a cold authority that made Jack flinch. "You have no right, too, to stand before me."  
  
"Well I just thought --"  
  
"Oh, you think?" Ralph cut him off coldly. "I didn't know you were capable of doing so. Go back to the forests, Jack, and live with pigs." He said without any mercy.  
  
The other man stammered, "Please, Ralph, hear me out --"  
  
"No!" Ralph stood up abruptly; Jack winced. "You don't have the right to be heard, Jack, you and your rules, and even the conch doesn't work now."  
  
He watched as the red-haired man shiver at the word that reminded them of the island. The bright blue eyes looked at him again with plead, but he returned nothing but cold authoritative stare at the other man. He watched as moments passed by, as the hope in the blue eyes was lost and the eyes dimmed and backed down.  
  
He stood there mercilessly and looked at Jack, who was cramped down and had tears of fear in his eyes. He did not blame him, for he knew just how terrible it was to refer back to anything that had to do with the island, and the murders. He was not going to forgive, though; it was just something that would take a miracle to accomplish.  
  
"I'm not going to hear you out." He said in a soft, sad, empty tone. "I'm not going to forgive you, or let you see Simon. I don't want you near him anymore, you hear me? I know what you did to him the night that Samneric came in screaming they saw the beast. I know what you did that made you come later than most of the boys." His voice turned bitter and sharp again in the latter sentence.  
  
"You knew? How?" Flinching again at the word 'beast' and the memories, Jack asked in a small voice.  
  
"Did I not have sex with you before that I don't know what you look like after you came? Or Simon, all covered in bite marks?" Ralph said flatly.  
  
The other man silenced in shame.  
  
  
  
//flashback//  
  
  
  
"Wake up, you little bitch."  
  
The dark figure squatting by the sleeping boy clawed his hand tightly over the boy's mouth, silencing Simon, who woke up in panic.  
  
"Get up." The dark figure instructed, pressing a cold blade at Simon's neck. "Walk out of the hut."  
  
They walked out of the hut cautiously and Simon was finally allowed to turn around. He gasped, "Jack?!"  
  
He looked astonishingly at the tall, blue-eyed boy who was presently looking raged and dark in the night. Then he began to back up a few steps, suspecting in horror what was coming.  
  
"Don't move." Jack said coldly. "Get down."  
  
"Jack, no --"  
  
"Get down!" The tall boy said sharply.  
  
Then Simon struggled under his crushing grip and he slapped the smaller boy across the face, leaving smudges of bloody fingerprints on the boy's cheek, for he did not clean his hand properly after the hunt. He watched coldly as Simon looked dizzy for a few seconds and then tried to get away but was snatched down again by Jack.  
  
"Don't even try." He said icily. And crushed the boy onto the ground.  
  
"Jack! Listen to me! Please -- " The fearful pleads of the smaller boy was whacked out of his mind right away. Blackness descended upon the two as Simon fought against the taller boy, who, by now, had his hands gripped tight behind his back and twisted them to an angle that he almost screamed out in pain.  
  
"Tell me, Simon." A growl, that made Jack sounded like an animal, said, "Do you think I'm weak, too. Huh? Just like Ralph?" His hands swam down to the boy's tanned thighs, and going lower until he reached a tender spot and clawed hard into it. "You both think you can overthrow me, Simon?" He bit and nibbled amorously at the earlobe of the boy and sent chap-lipped kisses down the boy's spine. "You both think you can defeat me?"  
  
"Jack! what are you talking about -- " Another whack across the face and Simon struggled to breath for a second or so.  
  
"You both left me, you little bitch!" Jack became agitated. He was angry. He was jealous. He was everything one would be when one's power and lover had both been snatched away by a 'better' someone else. Suddenly Jack gripped Simon by the shoulder and bit deeply into the flesh, causing Simon to scream into his hand. The muffled tone was full of hurt, fear, and indignation. "I hate you, Simon. You and Ralph. I hate both of you -- " He pried open the delicate thighs of the boy underneath him and thrust in with a violent jerk. "I hate you, you pretty little bitch."  
  
  
  
He came into Simon with an evil smile and whispered; "Now he's mine again, Chief."  
  
  
  
//flashback end//  
  
  
  
"Simon didn't say anything because he thought I might be angry enough to split with you and disrupt the assembly. But we did anyways, even if he didn't tell me." Ralph said with an empty tone.  
  
They both looked at the peacefully sleeping young man on the bed and looked away quickly again. The young man held a light that was too bright for either of them, with blood on their hands, to look at when they are engaged in a stabbing conversation like this. Ralph sighed and sat back down again.  
  
Jack nodded to himself in understanding that there was no chance, at least for now or a long, long time, for Ralph to ever forgive him, and heaven forbids, Simon. He turned and walked away, leaving a sentence behind.  
  
  
  
"I should have never started that hunt."  
  
***  
  
So tired of the straight line,  
  
and everywhere you turn  
  
There's vultures and thieves at your back  
  
The storm keeps on twisting,  
  
you keep on building the lies  
  
That make up for all that you lack  
  
It don't make no difference,  
  
escape one last time  
  
It's easier to believe  
  
In this sweet madness,  
  
oh this glorious sadness  
  
That brings me to my knees  
  
In the arms of the Angel  
  
far away from here  
  
From this dark, cold hotel room,  
  
and the endlessness that you feel  
  
You are pulled from the wreckage  
  
of your silent reverie  
  
You're in the arms of the Angel;  
  
may you find some comfort here  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
A/N: You've made it! *beams* Did you like it? If so, tell me which parts are weak and which are strong so I can improve in the future! I love long reviews, so babble away, everyone! Uh............I guess, I meant - anyone? ^.^;;  
  
  
  
Big thanks to all of you who reviewed! And those who are reading this!  
  
Replies for Reviews:  
  
  
  
Aftertaste of a Razorblade:  
  
Oh~ A Brian Adams fan!!! I like a lot of his songs, and the lyrics are just so interesting! Thank you for being my very first reviewer. Decent vocabulary? Ah~~~ *runs away~* because my English teacher once told me to get my vocab fixed or prepare to go to hell...........O.o But again, that was a while ago............I was so surprised that someone was still reading LoF fan fictions. I thought there wouldn't be any reviews for this one..........Oh well! As long as you like it (!  
  
PS. - Where did you get that penname? Because that reminds me of something...........Know what I'm talking about? If not, go and check my fic gallery, and find the one that is the most personal. That's what I'm asking if you are or not. If not, then I would be very relieved............ *sighs~*  
  
  
  
Jehan's Muses:  
  
*Giggles~* Did you really go through the whole chapter thinking I didn't change their ages? Or make sub-changes to the plots? I feel for you for having to go through all that, because if I were you I would have left the fic right away thinking it doesn't even deserve the word 'logical'. If I may point out, however, that it would have saved you a lot of time and effort if you had read my "MUST READS", because in the very first sentence, if I recall correctly, says "I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes.". Personally, I believe that should be clear enough for the readers, but I guess you just jumped right through all the warnings. It's okay, I do that often, too, though I simply wouldn't review if I thought the fic was bad.  
  
I'm all okay with the first part about the age, but when I got to the second part - well, let's just say that I don't really appreciate the sarcasm - ".Oh, too late." (Assuming that it is. If not, tell me that it's not, because I feel really bad about it). I know my grammar can be a very annoying aspect in my writings, but if you think it's 'that' bad, would you be interested in becoming my betta reader? Change the grammar that you found blinding, and make yourself feel quite good for being able to do so. Would you like to be my betta reader?  
  
I dare you to.  
  
Check out my e-mail, and we can talk in private if you are interested. *Grins, as in "Welcome to my profile land!!"*  
  
  
  
Redrose2310: Here's 'more' for you! I hope you would like the fic to continue even after you've read chapter two, too! Do you like it? Where? Or what didn't you like? Would you like to see something in particular? Tell me! I'm in need of feedbacks here~  
  
  
  
Rylyn: Thank you for your sweet review! Though I'm not a Jack/Ralph fan, I'm still happy that you liked the line. How's this chapter, by the way (if you have read it, that is.) Tell you a little secret - I've actually written four chapters already. I just wanted to post it one at a time and see what improvements or highlights can be made. I'm also a long-review- lover, so I'm so happy that there are feedbacks! (Even if there's only four in total................o_o;;)  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
Now, you see how much I like long reviews, so go down now and click that rectangular button..............There, see, that wasn't hard!  
  
Review! Review! I'll give a cookie of some sort~ *digs for something decent...........;;;*  
  
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	3. Chapter 3: In the Dark

A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare  
  
  
  
Summary:  
  
Shuddering at the cold flames  
  
Reminding him of the old games  
  
Clutching the raincoat  
  
Slipping away  
  
Running again and attempts to escape  
  
Never succeeding and never again  
  
I lose! I lose! I can't fight the signs  
  
Fighting to live  
  
As a painful pale blur, gently passes by  
  
By [crimson nightmare]  
  
  
  
Declaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to W. Golding. Also, the lyrics at the end are my creation, belongs to me. No money is made from this, so no suing please.  
  
MUST-READS:  
  
I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes.  
  
Some changes will be made to the plot of the original book.  
  
Quotes are taken from the original book; I will not list them in declaimer because there are quite a few of them.  
  
New setting: After the boys came back into civilization, four or so years after that.  
  
I am not associating the new setting with the actual history of Britain at the time. I'm simply using today's society as the new setting. (It's too much work to do the actual time - for those who know me; you know how lazy I can be.)  
  
  
  
A/N: Yet we meet again, Earthlings! (No reason, just wanted to use that line *sweatdrops*) Yeah, anyways, here we are again, playing around with the lovely four guys that I happen to be studying for exams on, and so I decided to post this sometime after exam. Patience, patience..................  
  
  
  
..........Fine! No patience!!! I posted this *during my exam time*!!! ................I am insane.  
  
...........So review for me??? (What does that have to do with me being insane???)  
  
This is a chapter dedicated to the pairing Jack/Roger. It's dark, and has nothing to do with Ralph/Simon, so those of you who are not really looking for a chapter on Jack/Roger, you may skip the flashbacks in the chapter. They are not exactly informative....................Um, yes ^-^bb so there you go!  
  
Enjoy!!  
  
  
  
  
  
And REVIEW!!!!  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
  
  
A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: In the Dark  
  
  
  
Jack walked away with shame and hurt on his face.  
  
The red-haired man wondered for a moment what would happen if he had ran back and forced Ralph to listen to him, but killed that thought as he remembered the murderous look on Ralph's face when he had offered to explain.  
  
Jack was a grown man now, an unsuccessfully grown man.  
  
Not only was he a claustrophobic, but also he was scared of the wild, he could not bear to eat anything that tasted close to pork, and he wasn't able to stand anything close to red or white clay. He was afraid of heights, he did not thrive in any of the academic fields, and he could not work well physically, either, because of the many fears he held for the outside world. And 'rocks', he could not stand rocks. He ended up relying only on the financial supports that his not-rich-enough parents gave him.  
  
His could not take singing, he could not speak with proper manner - he stutters, and he was terribly afraid of anything that reminded him of a boy named Roger - a figure of pure evil in his life that gives him cold shudders every time he thought about the boy. Where is Roger now? Is he lurking around that corner on the street? Is he watching from some where in the dark? Is he here?  
  
Jack walked faster and faster on the street walk. His sweat soaked his red hair, and his blue eyes darted from place to place as he started running on the street, ignoring the strange stares from the passersby. He muttered to himself with a frightened tone that sounded like a child who got lost in the market. "Get away from me! Roger! Get away!"  
  
He ran and ran as his whispers grew to a call, and later, a scream, until he tripped and fell on the sidewalk, and cold fear swept across him as a little boy in Indian costume with dark-tanned skin and a pure black gaze looked down on him. For a second there he wanted to scream out loud, and he wanted to tell the little boy to get away, but then he stopped dead as the boy asked him in a childish voice that most certainly wasn't Roger's low voice. "Are you okay, sir?" The little boy asked politely.  
  
He coughed violently, and panted in relief, "Yes, I'm fine......You, you're not......I mean, I'm fine, thank you."  
  
He discovered how pathetic he was, to think that Roger would appear beside him again with a painted face and leaves on his bare shoulders and chest. He sighed at the unsuccessful person he was and got up shakily. The little boy in Indian costume was gone by the time he had calmed down and turned around to find him. He felt incredibly stupid.  
  
  
  
//flashback//  
  
  
  
He crept in the shadows.  
  
  
  
A lock of hair fell into his shadowed eyes, and he did not care to brush it away. The dark green light that glowed mysteriously printed its snake-like mark on his bare back, and he crept further until he got to the bottom of a tree trunk. He stopped before the root, sniffing it for a second and then picked up a sharp-edged rock on the ground and jammed at it until the juice came shooting out. He bent lower onto the ground, opening his mouth at the opening of the leaking root and sucked at the pale-green liquid fiercely.  
  
  
  
"That could be poisonous you know?" An amused, taunting voice floated by, coming from a shadowing figure that was half hidden amongst the green and black shades of the leaves and woods.  
  
  
  
"Jack." He muttered darkly.  
  
  
  
"Me." Came the furtive reply.  
  
  
  
A black wave of power came forcing his head down in worship. The leaves around them rustled as a cool breeze blew by, and his eyes were colder. He looked up at the figure standing before him; cold fear and strange excitement filled him every time he talked to Jack.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
"What do you want?" He bent back down, sipping the tree juice once again.  
  
  
  
"Some help." The boy standing in the shadows stayed where he was, devouring the view of this firm, tanned body creeping on the ground.  
  
  
  
His instincts told him that this was nothing like usual, but a tempting voice in his head challenged him with luring reasonings.  
  
  
  
"Help?" He continued to stay low on the ground. He never spoke much, for he was uncommunicative by nature.  
  
  
  
"Yes." The face looking down twisted into a dark grin. "Help."  
  
  
  
Jack squatted down near the other boy, eyes still scanning the raw flesh that lay before him. With a beckoning motion, he summoned his Right Hand to him with the dark authority implanted within his hunter's heart.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Roger came closer.  
  
  
  
He watched as Roger crept closer. He waited like a skillful predator waiting for the right moment to attack.  
  
  
  
Then he attacked. Growling like an animal, he tackled Roger with a brutal force. Knocking the boy onto the ground he gripped onto the boy's shoulders and gnawed at his chest with a force that made the boy bleed. The boy under him laughed out with a low, cold voice and with a twist and turn of strong legs Roger ended up trapping the other boy between his legs. He felt his hard-on pressed tightly against the body underneath him.  
  
"Oh no you don't." Jack hissed and struck the other boy across the face hard, making the beaten boy feeling dizzy with pain. He turned their position around again, grinding savagely against Roger, who had a few seconds of black out from the bash across the head.  
  
  
  
"Remember who's who, Roger." Jack said again with a hissing voice. "And who serves whom."  
  
  
  
The boy beneath him only looked at him with raw lust and evil hunger in his eyes. Satisfied with this, Jack bent down from the sitting position to explore the boy's raw flesh. He started with licking and chewing the flesh of the boy underneath. He felt the boy's hard-on and chuckled with dark pleasure.  
  
Next he struck the throat with animal-like desire; he bit down hard at the apple at the middle of the boy's throat and felt a wave of pleasant, warm blood rushing out of that skin, leaking down his thirsty mouth and muddied chest. Roger choked hard as the fresh blood came shooting out of the opening on his throat, his eyes rolled white for several times as the pain and the dizziness from loss of blood hit him again and again.  
  
  
  
Jack thrust himself in. Roger screamed out, surrendering to the dark pleasure of being eaten.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Jack smudged some mud and blood onto Roger's right cheek and licked his lips as if he was just done with a fabulous feast. He flipped Roger onto his back and took out his knife.  
  
  
  
"What are you doing?" Roger asked him, suddenly wide-eyed.  
  
  
  
"Making you mine." He felt the boy underneath him flinch, understanding that more pain was coming. He smiled, feeling more and more powerful. He admired for a moment at the dark strikes and lashes across Roger's back - his handy work. He lifted his knife, pressing the icy surface onto the small back of the body beneath him.  
  
  
  
The coldness gave Roger a shudder, but he held onto his position, knowing that it was fatal to protest right now that he had Jack sitting on his back, pressing a blade onto his bare back -- he knew that Jack had the guts and the power to kill. He felt the cold blade drawing lines on his skin, hard enough to hurt a bit but not cutting into the flesh. Then without warning the blade cut into his bare skin at the center of his back, and pain shot to the top of his head as he felt the pain lining up into a writing-like pattern.  
  
  
  
After what seemed like hours of torment, he finally looked up at Jack, who had lifted himself off of his back.  
  
  
  
  
  
"What did you write?" He asked.  
  
  
  
"Mine." He said with a new authority.  
  
  
  
"Yours." Roger replied with a new kind of obedience.  
  
  
  
"Mine." Jack repeated himself with a dark, evil satisfaction, looking at his new possession.  
  
  
  
"All yours." Roger said, dark-eyed and excited.  
  
  
  
//flashback end//  
  
  
  
Dark surrounded Jack as he was reminded of the evil things he had done in his childhood. However innocent he had became after he had came back, he could not wash away the black dot in his heart that do and still will haunt him for the rest of his life. He did not want to, but it happened anyways.  
  
  
  
That was what Roger could do to him. The boy had made him evil.  
  
  
  
Evil  
  
  
  
Evil  
  
  
  
Evil  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Somewhere in the street corner, a pair of black eyes was eyeing him with a smirk.  
  
"Scared, Chief?" He said in a low voice, and fingered a set of scar that said 'MINE' on his back.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Dead silence  
  
Insanity of the night  
  
Grave footprints  
  
Enjoy your ride  
  
  
  
Ducking the shadows  
  
Avoiding the stares  
  
You are now at the dark pit  
  
Where evil won't spare  
  
  
  
Kill me if you will  
  
Because it seems better  
  
Then the eternity tormenting of pain  
  
That follows me here and there  
  
  
  
Begging if you like me to  
  
Down here in the dirt  
  
With broken wings of black and lust  
  
I want you never on Earth  
  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh! You've made it!! Congratulation, Earthlings (.............bb). So now you may click that, there, yes, that 'Review Button' and tell me what you think about the chapter! Here's a cookie for you~~~~ *w*bb  
  
Big thanks to 'anyone' who read this and reviewed!! And also to those who are reading this.  
  
Replies for Reviews:  
  
Aftertaste of a Razorblade: Oh, thank you for telling me about that! I didn't even notice the word! Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter too, though it's really more about Jack and Roger than anything. It might be a little confusing, so if there's any questions just ask, 'kay? *beams* Oh, and I'm glad that you're at very least not a regular cutter. I'm constantly fighting with myself to quit cutting. It's been five or so months since my last cut and I'm still trying! *sighs~* Lastly, I can't believe someone actually read the poem! Thank you! That was so sweet of you to review. I didn't expect anyone to give a damn about lost works of other people - but personally, I did like the poem myself. First attempt. *dances around~*  
  
Sarfox: I know~ I don't see so much Ralph and Simon pairing, while Jack and Roger is not as rare as the former pairing. So I decided to do one myself ^- ^! I hope you liked this chapter too! It's dedicated to Jack/Roger fans if there is any of them out there. Personally, I don't really like Jack, but on the other hand, he is an interesting character to work on when one talks about fear and authority; he is a mixture of the two aspects in a.........contrasting way. And I know I'm not making any sense now..........@)_@bb  
  
The Nagisa Thesis: Yay to another Ralph/Simon pairing lover! I think the pairing is too rare and I intend to change that fact, even if I've only done one fic on them. This chapter is not about R/S, though, but I hope you liked it too. The conflict between Ralph and Jack was my presumption of what happens after they went back into society, if they ever meet each other again. Or, there could be another alternative (many, actually, I'm just rambling about the ones that came into mind) which would be Ralph and Jack pretending that they never met each other and look somewhere else if ever actually met. That would take a whole lot of explanation if to make sense, so I'm just going to stop now..............^o^bb  
  
Licorice-Sama: *beams~* Someone who pointed out places to improve! And in a nice way!! (Trust me, it's not too common to find a *nice* criticizor~) Unfortunately, I think I need a betta reader at this point. English is *so* not my first language. Like, now if I were to go back and check some of my earlier works, I'd probably start to pull hair and go insane because of my blinding grammar amongst other stuff *sighs~* I have improved a bit, actually, from my past failures on vocab and basic grammar skills. But now I'm having this *worst* teacher I've ever met and I'm starting to hate English because of it~~~~o (But I still can't let go of writing fics!) Oh well...... Say, if you come back and read this fic, could you point out one or two mistakes as examples of what others may be? Tenses are one of my major weaknesses and I really need guidance on this part. It'll be greatly appreciated, thank you.  
  
Redrose2310: You're back! *waves happily* The ending? Well, I simply can't tell you what'll happen, now could I *winks~*? I hope you liked this chapter all the same, and there won't be only three boys, but four - though I can probably tell you as a warning that Jack, Ralph and Simon won't be in threesome relationship ever again. Jack broke that relationship when he decided to start having his little war with Ralph and raped Simon. Too bad, his characteristics are just like that. He'll be, as the summary says, with Roger though; perhaps not exactly the happily-ever-after kind of relationship, but we'll whip something out, right? ^o^"  
  
Rylyn: (By now she stares at the screen, twitching~) I didn't ask the few people before, but is this not everyone's exam time? I mean, assuming that you're not half way across the globe, people should be having exams like, at very least around this time, right? Um, scratch that, maybe I *am* the only one having exams right now. So you liked the chapter? Yay~ How about this one? Jack/Roger. Not the typical sweet type of relationship, is it? *Shrugs* Oh well, Roger *is* supposed to be the devil figure in the fic! Now, this part may be a little confusing. Roger, as the prime devil he always is, is being at the bottom during sex because he didn't care. He likes evil in any form, even if it being the sick feeling of being taken. Jack is the one actually being controlled, because it was Roger who *indirectly influenced and hypnotized* him into doing evil. ..........And I didn't lie *sticks out tong* I *did* want to see constructive criticisms~o  
  
  
  
A/N: *produces a whip and cracks evil sniggers~* NOW GO AND REVIEW/REVIEW/REVIEW/REVIEW!!!! *Turns nice and angelical now* Would you review, please? =^ . ^=  
  
Oh, and tell me what you think about the poem at the end! (Assuming that at least someone might understand it~?)  
  
  
  
  
  
????????????????????????~~~~~~@__________@~~~~~~??????????????????????? 


	4. Chapter 4: Rebound

A Pale, Gentle Blur By Crimson Nightmare

Summary: 

There is a distance

Between two lines

Insanity on one end

Pure sense in the next

Four are now united

Which paths will they choose?

Of keen eyes on my side

And yours with the lies

Keep me posted

If you will

Choose with madness as no rules apply!

I will watch while they will decide

Like a pale, gentle blur

That silently passed by

Declaimer: Lord of the Flies belongs to W. Golding. No money is made from this, so no suing please.  
  
A/N: Here¡¦s chapter four, the longgggggggggg waited one (if anyone¡¦s still waiting for it, that is¡K.) I¡¦m sorry it took me this long to remember to update again, guys, but I¡¦ve been trying to survive in my real life, which happens to be a not-very-easy one. Well, I won¡¦t keep you waiting. So here it is¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K..  
  
Enjoy!!  
  
MUST-READS:  
  
I added about five years onto the boys' age for the sake of logical sex scenes.  
  
Some changes will be made to the plot of the original book.  
  
Quotes are taken from the original book; I will not list them in declaimer because there are quite a few of them.  
  
New setting: After the boys came back into civilization, four or so years after that.  
  
I am not associating the new setting with the actual history of Britain at the time. I'm simply using today's society as the new setting. (It's too much work to do the actual time - for those who know me; you know how lazy I can be.)  
  
  
O=======ooOoo=======O  
  


***

A Pale, Gentle Blur By C.N.

Chapter 4: Rebound

Jack picked himself up slowly, finding it hard not to stagger. He tried breathing slowly to calm himself down, but was frightened again as a rumbling sound of thunder suddenly struck mercilessly. He looked around and found himself on a small, void, black-concreted street. Then he felt a large drop of rain hitting his nose out of nowhere, and looked up at the sky as if in demanding why it had to choose to rain now of all times?

The sky turned darker as heavy rain poured down from the black clouds. It¡¦s funny when everything is dark and dim they seemed to be able to look like anything. For example, that large balloon-cup on the newly opened coffee shop roof; it looked like a large rock on a cliff to Jack. He gulped dryly, trying not to overuse his imagination; he turned and loitered on the street without knowing which way was home. 

A dark figure was at the end of the street.

Jack looked up and saw yet another person on this pitiful earth had decided to be out here with him miserably ¡V only the other one had a dark green raincoat on, which was better than him ¡V standing in the rain soaked from head to toe. He moaned inwardly. Why does everything bad happen to him? He walked on, still sinking deeper into his little world of self-pitying, and walked pass the dark-hooded figure that was walking in his way, mumbling something.

Jack dragged his feet on, feeling the raindrops dripping down his red hair, and another thunder rolled again. He cleared his mind a little, and just as he was several steps away from the raincoated figure, he stopped dead.

¡§Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Bash her in.¡¨ A low voice whispered.

Flashes of fire, smoke, and blood suddenly exploded in Jack¡¦s mind, and he almost screamed out loud in fear. He stood there, back still turned from the dark muttering figure ¡V he was afraid to look, to discover what he¡¦ll find behind his back.

¡§Kill the pig.¡¨

A step closer.

¡§Cut her throat.¡¨

Jack turned around.

¡§Bash her in.¡¨ He finished for the low voice that chanted softly, but revealed a pure radiance of evilness that roared just like the thunder.

¡§Sharpen a stick at both ends.¡¨ The dark figure was looking at him with glittering black eyes from under the raincoat hood.

¡§It¡¦s a gift.¡¨ The low voice chanted.

¡§For the Beast.¡¨ Jack trembled.

¡§Then,¡¨ The figure pulled down the raincoat hood. ¡§Maybe he won¡¦t bother us anymore.¡¨ 

A dark pair of eyes watched the red-haired man like a cat looking at its prey ¡V it is thinking about how to play with the little toy first. ¡§Hello.¡¨ The blood red lips smiled, ¡§Chief.¡¨

Jack felt like choking.

***

Simon¡¦s hand was limp, but there was a little pulse still throbbing under his wrist. Ralph raised the pale hand and let it touch his cheek softly. A cream-colored flush rose under the skin of the slim fingers, and the fair-haired young man smiled a bit, as if convincing himself that Simon really will wake up one day ¡V even if the doctors told him that the chances were small.

He was shooed out of the patient¡¦s room by Simon¡¦s current nurse ¡V Mrs. Dorsey, a plump woman with a heart of a nun. She was treated Simon as if he was her own son, and even though she shoos Ralph out of the room every time, she would stuff him up with her rock-hard homemade cookies on his way out. He smiled a bit and accepted the little treats and left with a quiet look of goodbye to the young man on the bed.

And so he was back into the rotten society called mankind again. He walked out of his sanctuary and returned to the dark world outside ¡V by now it was pouring rain outside. He held newspapers over his head and walked amongst the busy street. Different colors of umbrellas were being flashed amongst the different hued cars. Different designs of fashion plastic models decorated different edifices. As the blurring raindrops blended all the hectic colors together, Ralph could almost make out a blazing fire, a bloody dance, and a glittering white conch that was splattered into pieces, flashing its white light here and there. 

He looked at his watch ¡V twelve thirty-three. He should be back at the office by one, so he would go and have a cup of coffee with a box of chicken-fingers for lunch ¡V as he always does. He had never left his daily routine behind, never, for he could not stand anything out of order again. He quickly erased that dangerous thought from his head and went on to the fast-food restaurant that he had always dined in and sat down at the same table in the corner beside the glass window. He ordered a cup of coffee and a box of chicken-fingers, as he had planned, and sat back, both enjoying and suffering the blurry abstract art of crowded umbrellas and traffic-jammed streetcars. 

***

¡§What¡Kwhat¡KWho, who are you?¡¨ Jack sank onto his knees. 

¡§Yours.¡¨

¡§What? I¡K¡¨ Then the color from his cheeks drained painfully fast as the single word hit him straight in the head. ¡§Mine.¡¨ He repeated as if hypnotized.

¡§All yours.¡¨ 

Oh my gosh. Why? Why does he have to come back? I didn¡¦t do anything to him! No, wait, I did. I did a hell lot of things to him. But he was willing! It was not my fault! Please, oh, please, please tell me you¡¦re not Roger¡K¡§Roger?¡¨

¡§Yes, Chief?¡¨

¡§Stop calling me that!¡¨ Jack snapped, and then taken aback as a crooked grin appeared on the other man¡¦s face. ¡§What¡¦s so funny?¡¨

¡§Nothing, Jack.¡¨

Then a long silence followed. It wasn¡¦t one of those friendly or romantic silences; instead, it was a deadly space in time that made Jack felt like he was back hunting again. Raindrops fell on Roger¡¦s dark hair, and formed little droplets at the end of each black strand. Then Jack noticed ¡V Roger had unbelievably long hair.

He stammered, ¡§You¡Kyou have long hair.¡¨

The blood-red lipped-grin widened. ¡§Yes, Jack, I left my hair growing.¡¨

¡§That¡¦s nice.¡¨ Jack croaked, as if he was complimenting on a cup of English tea. He wondered for a bit, for the fact that all kids (that he knew of) that went back into society, had all had at very least an aftermath of keeping their hair clipped and cut neatly. Ralph, for example, had his hair cut to a clean, modern-styled format. Even for him, which was quite obvious, he had chopped off as much hair as he could after he had gotten back. Roger, however, seemed to like the fact that his hair was creeping into his eyes, the black locks wobbled a bit as the dark eyelashes blinked from time to time. The long hair at the back was even more unbelievable ¡V it was to the point where the ends of the dark hair covered the back, lower than the chest.

Roger seemed to have noticed what the other man was thinking, so he explained with a dark voice that made Jack regret ever even looked at the man¡¦s long hair, ¡§It¡¦s to cover up the scar, Jack. The scar you made on my back.¡¨

Another dangerous silence followed, and Jack gulped once or twice as the pair of cat-like, dark eyes gazed at him without expression. Why was everyone in his past showing up today? Why today? Why¡Koh! What¡¦s the use?

¡§Listen, Roger.¡¨ He cleared his throat, ¡§I don¡¦t know what you want by showing up and scaring the hell out of me like this -- ¡¨

¡§Oh?¡¨ Roger¡¦s black voice floated through the air again, ¡§You¡¦re scared, Chief?¡¨

¡§I said don¡¦t call me that!¡¨ Jack said agitatedly. 

¡§What¡¦s wrong, Jack?¡¨ The other man taunted him, ¡§Afraid of what you did? Afraid of what you did to me? Afraid of me?¡¨

¡§No! I --¡¨ For a moment there he was going to shout into Roger¡¦s face that the man had been willing at the time, and that they were all stupid horny teenagers and didn¡¦t know what they were doing, but then that high-pitched ¡¥No!¡¦ reminded him of a painful history with Ralph, where he had left Ralph¡¦s group, announcing that he would go off by himself. He shivered unknowingly, and glanced up at Roger again. ¡§Just ¡V What do you want?¡¨

¡§A lot of things.¡¨ The dark eyes teased and taunted him, ¡§It would take a long, long time to make you understand what I want, Jack.¡¨ The last word had been added on mockingly, and the man smiled in a way that got on Jack¡¦s nerves.

¡§What?!¡¨ Jack bawled. ¡§Would you just stop playing games with me? What possibly can I give you anyways? I¡¦m a loser in this world. I can¡¦t work, I can¡¦t speak without making a fool of myself, I can¡¦t stand being in a small room, and I can¡¦t even stand eating pork. I¡¦m a pathetic, pathetic, bloody loser! What POSSIBLY could you want? Roger, tell me! What?¡¨

¡§That was a well-made speech.¡¨ The face smirked. ¡§But I¡¦m sure there¡¦s a lot more I can find useful from you.¡¨

¡§Like what?¡¨

Roger smiled. This was getting interesting. ¡§For example, your home.¡¨

¡§What? Don¡¦t you have a place to go to?¡¨

¡§No, I want to live in your home.¡¨ An inexorable statement. 

¡§Why would you want to live in my house? And whatever made you think that I would let you just parade into my life like this?¡¨ He demanded, index finger jabbing in the air.

¡§I want to live in your home because I deserve to come back and wreck your life. You deserve to be destroyed because you are a stupid loser that did something very evil in the past. I know that you will have to let me in because you did this -- ¡¨ He suddenly flipped off the top part of his raincoat, turning around and revealing the set of scar on his back to Jack. ¡§ - to me. And you must be destroyed mercilessly because you have been a bloody thief, murderer, and loser all your life. You should die.¡¨

Yes, blaming it all on him. Evil works in a lot of ways, and one of its favorite implement, is enticing one into believing in its purpose. Luring and persuasive, it was such a fun game to play.

Jack fainted.

***

Ralph sat up that night. He couldn¡¦t sleep.

No, he should sleep now, because in three hours he would be going to an interview for a financial job he was hoping to get from a large company called K-Max. It was a company that founded all sorts of other little companies, and then, financially, torn them apart. He didn¡¦t know that, of course, all that he knew was that it was a large company that had someone call him up and arranged an interview because the company was interested in his advance performance in technology field from his records. Technology, hmm, of course he thrived at it, because it was the farthest thing from wilderness and savagery.

He shook away that thought as if afraid of it, and got up to start his new day since he was awake already. He got dressed in formal clothes, and groomed his hair neatly. Things had to be in order and must be all the same. No changes, ever. He walked into the small kitchen in his flat and made his usual breakfast ¡V cornflake cereal and milk. Then, he sat down on his little black sofa and watched the TV while waiting for the several hours that are to be spent before the interview time comes. 

Pictures on the television never got into his mind, for he was thinking many things at a time. Blurs of blue, white and red were flashing on the screen. Sounds of a reporter saying something about a fire burning down a certain hospital ¡V Hospital??!!

***

Dark corners of wet, dirty street walk, where civilized people often look at them with disgust. Do they know the beauty of all this? Do they understand the freedom and numbing pleasure it brings? No, he guessed. They don¡¦t understand. Roger looked up to a shabby apartment. 

An old streetlight stood there by the path, giving the last bit of light it could afford. Dim light shone on a face that mocked rules and order. He wanted disruption; he wanted pleasure, desires fulfilled. He wanted evilness, though he might not have known that he did. It didn¡¦t matter, because he was so good at it.

He walked across the lawn, right through the few light yellow flowers growing in his way, and stopped in front of the security phone. He purposely faced the camera. 

¡§Sir.¡¨ His eyes looked sincere and filled with concern, he said, ¡§You know Jack, right? He lives here? I¡¦m his old friend. He got drunk on our little reunion,¡¨ He smiled softly, knocking the fainted man leaning on his shoulder with small mockery, ¡§and I don¡¦t know where he kept the keys. Could you please let us in?¡¨ He looked at the security guard on the other side of the glass window, and smirked inwardly as the guard¡¦s face relaxed and let them in. ¡§Thank you, sir.¡¨ He said honestly, ¡§You saved us a lot of trouble.¡¨

They went inside, and the security guard even helped them hold the elevator as Roger dragged Jack into it, and waited until the guard opened Jack¡¦s apartment for them. Roger grinned and said thank you again. As the guard left, the standing man closed the door and dragged the unconscious man across the untidy floor and onto the one and only sofa in the little home of Jack¡¦s. The dark eyes glanced around cunningly and Roger took off his raincoat. His eyes glittered darkly as he felt the cool temperature invading his bare skin.

On his back was still the line ¡§MINE¡¨

Only now he¡¦d like to interpret it as - ¡§Everything is MINE.¡¨

***

Ralph came as fast as he could, and have used his cell phone over and over again on the way ¡V trying to contact the authorities, asking what hospital it was that was on fire. Fire, yes, he still feared its power. What¡¦s more, he could not let that particular hospital be on fire ¡V it just¡Kcan¡¦t. 

His heart pounded faster and faster as the cab drove him closer and closer to the hospital where Simon laid there, undisturbed by anything happening around him. The more he thought about it, the more his hands felt cold sweat. He fingered the end leather linings of the cab seat and moved uncomfortably, hoping he could fly to the hospital right now. 

The red light. The red light. WHY IS THERE ALWAYS RED LIGHTS WHEN YOU NEED TO GET SOMEWHERE FAST???? He clutched his fist once, twice, and thrice, controlling himself from losing his temper. Finally they were there. He looked from behind the cab window, and saw a perfectly still white hospital sitting there on the street intersection as it always had been. There was no fire ¡V that would be some other goddamned hospital that HAD to sound so seriously much like this one. 

He got out of the cab, tipping the cab driver as he got off, and walked on the sidewalk a bit faintly. Now that he¡¦s here, he might as well get inside and see Simon before he had to go for the interview that the business company had set for him. It was not yet visitor¡¦s hour, so he entered the hospital cautiously, and made sure that no nurse that knew his face would recognize him along the way.

He stole into the white room quietly, and waited behind the door until Simon¡¦s nurse ¡V Mrs. Dorsey, walked out the room with her usual reporting notepad on her right hand. He looked around the room and made sure there was absolutely no burn marks, fire, or anything that suggested flames to make sure he wasn¡¦t just dreaming and Simon was really, really safe. He had to make sure Simon was safe. He just had to.

Simon was safe. He sighed in relief. He knew he was being plain stupidly overprotective, but he just couldn¡¦t help it. He walked over to the bed quickly and pecked the pale young man on the bed. ¡§Hey.¡¨ He whispered as he sat down. ¡§You scared the hell out of me there, kiddo.¡¨ He chuckled tiredly, ¡§Do you even know how terrified I was when I heard that there was a hospital on fire?¡¨ Then, as if saying back to himself, ¡§No, I guess you don¡¦t. But, hey, it got me here, didn¡¦t it?¡¨ He reached over and held the pale hand that had lain there limply. 

¡§You know, ¡¨ He suddenly laughed bitterly, ¡§Sometimes seriously I envy you for being able to lie here so peacefully, sleeping forever.¡¨ He looked down on the delicate fingers he was holding so preciously, ¡§but then I would think how,¡¨ He looked away quickly, as if frightened by the disrupted emotions that hit him like waves, ¡§how sadly I would end my life right away if I don¡¦t keep believing that you¡¦ll wake up.¡¨

¡§Will you wake up? Simon, will you wake up?¡¨ He said softly, almost chanting. ¡§¡¦Cause then I would become different again.¡¨ He tilted his head slightly in thought, ¡§And I honestly don¡¦t know if that¡¦s a good thing anymore, sometimes.¡¨ Then he shook his head suddenly with a wild gesture, ¡§No! I can¡¦t think that way! You have to wake up soon, Simon.¡¨ He realized, ¡§Or I think I¡¦m going to give up hope on living, too.¡¨ His eyes dimmed. 

The room seemed to have darkened. 

He left soon afterwards. 

A new kind of need appeared ¡V the kind that desperately requires a miracle to fulfill.

***

Rain. Rain. I find the sky raining.

Laugh. Laugh. I find me laughing.

Cry. Cry. I find him crying.

By. By. I passed him by.

Are you afraid?

Yes I am

Are you there yet?

Where?

In Hell.

Oh

Yes I am

I smiled

TBC¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K

O=======ooOoo=======O

A/N: Well, now that we¡¦ve got that out of the way, I think it is appropriate for me to bow here and say: Let us now enter the war zone!!! Um, or something like that. Chapter four opens up several new events that are about to happen. One of which that deals with Simon, as most of you should already guessed. Try and guess what the other events are! We¡¦ll now continue on¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K¡K..

Big thanks to all who reviewed, and to all who are reading this.

Replies for Reviews:

Redroe23102: *g* Yeah, I know, Roger won¡¦t ever suit the H.E.A. would he? Well, according to my sick and twisted brain, Roger will not get a real H.E.A. but he will get an ending other than death. That I can tell you. I don¡¦t really like killing any of the characters, no matter how evil they are. Plus, I don¡¦t really hate Roger. He¡¦s just plain evil that¡¦s all (like that makes it all okay *sweatdrops*)¡K.Oh? A fic you¡¦re doing? Simon living? What more could I ask? Give! Give! w

Aftertaste of a Razorblade: A Roger/Simon fic? I¡¦m so curious! I wanna see! Don¡¦t fight it off! (she cries hotly) Oh, and I won¡¦t kill you if you like Jack/Ralph. I¡¦ll just torture Jack even more¡K(laughs sadistically) You probably won¡¦t like how I¡¦m characterizing the grown-up Jack now, though, because he¡¦s became a wimp and so on. But I assure you that his characteristics will change dramatically in the future, now that Roger is bringing great disturbance into his fearful little world. Thank you also, for the support in me quitting. I¡¦m somewhat relieved to say that I¡¦m now out of the thinking-about-it-every-single-second phase. Am continuing with some fear but lots of determination. 

Rylyn: Oh, no, it¡¦s okay to give me longgggggg reviews, because when I review, I take up a whole page essay or so. *g* Exams. That. Was. Hell!!!!!! I did badly in some subjects and some good. Ah~ *kicks bunny rabbit and so on* Your favorite chapter, was it? Thank you! Yeah, when I wrote it I had the most violent image in my mind, that is, before they started having sex. (And she talks about it as if her mind wasn¡¦t filled with twisted thoughts. No, really!) Anyways, the poetry at the end of chapter 3 was a real spur of the moment ¡V when I felt the dazed pulse at my temple pumping strongly. It was five o¡¦clock in the morning. I hadn¡¦t slept at all and went directly to school. I was crazy. Hope you feel intrigued by this chapter, as it did not have a lot of deliciousness in it but lots of opened up questions waiting to be answered. And now I have to go back to my little nest and pull at my hair to figure what the answers really are¡K.*faints*

Allie: Ah~ No! Don¡¦t have to beg, honey, I¡¦m not that cruel. (Or, rather, I try not to be and updates as soon as possible~) Here¡¦s chapter 4 and I hope it eases your mind for at least a while. (While I work on chapter 5 that is¡K¡K¡K¡K) Lets see¡K¡K¡KThere is just so much ways to play around at the four boys¡¦ worlds that I¡¦m almost hazy-minded right now¡K¡K¡K¡K..Well, off to daze myself a little more. 

Reader: Wow. That¡¦s all I can say. Wow. Your review was like reading my mind in a few simple sentences. Wow. You¡¦ve put it in a clearer way than I could¡¦ve done. Thank you! Yes, the poem was about Jack and his racing little brain. (Um¡K.in an elegant way of putting it¡K¡K¡Kyes¡K¡K¡K.) The world he was in was totally in disorder and chaos. He did not ¡¥want¡¦ to live anymore. He was in complete desperation of getting away from the one controlling his soul every single day. I didn¡¦t work on another poem this chapter, but I hope you¡¦ll come back and read more too~^-^

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That¡¦s it for now, folks. Now what we shall do is ¡V I go off to my little hell and come up with some more crazy plots, and you guys review (babbling on, rambling on, and so on¡K¡K¡K.). Don¡¦t make me ask for an one-page essay on this *snickers* So review! Now! o

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